


November 1985

by buttsbeyondbutts



Series: Wolfstar Fix Fics [3]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Angst, Azkaban, Canonical Character Death, Could Be Canon, Emotional/Psychological Abuse, Flashbacks, Gen, Guilt, Marauders Friendship, Pre-Series, Prison
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-28
Updated: 2017-12-28
Packaged: 2019-02-22 20:42:54
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,579
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13174824
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/buttsbeyondbutts/pseuds/buttsbeyondbutts
Summary: Walburga Black visits her son before she dies.





	November 1985

Prisoners of Azkaban rarely received visitors. It wasn’t merely the dementors. Dementors fed on guilty and innocent alike. Anyone, muggle, wizard, criminal, ministry inspector, or family member, had to relive their worst moments as soon as they approached the island. True, the dementors didn’t have the time to sink their teeth in as much as they might like but did not prevent trying.

Yet, if the island had been guarded by half sleeping puppies, few would have visited. Most of the cells were occupied by blood supremacists, a venn diagram of the worst and stupidest of Death Eaters. No one, not even those who managed to weasel their way  out of the charges, would admit to caring for a Death Eater. Certainly not enough to cross the oceans and the dementors to see them.

Sirius was surprised, to say the least, when the door to his cell was opened. The guard didn’t speak, merely gestured for the prisoner to follow. With no other recourse, Sirius obeyed.

He’d been in Azkaban nearly four years by his count of the moons. No one had visited him. No one sent him a letter. If they did the guards confiscated it. Sirius didn’t expect it. He had killed Lily and James Potter.

_Prongs! C’mon, mate, don’t- please, it’s not- wake up, James! For fuck’s sake, wake up!_

The dementor hummed in low pleasure at Sirius’s worst memory. He didn’t bother trying to conjure a better one. The best parts of his life were already consumed.

Instead, he focused on the future, whatever waited at the end of that long corridor. Why would anyone want to see him? What had changed since they caged him up, so many moons ago.

The guard waved a sickly hand before a stone door, which opened with a long creak of disuse. Sirius had to squeeze passed it to enter and he heard the crack of Bartemius Crouch’s sentence: _For the betrayal of Lily and James Potter, and the Wizarding World, Sirius Orion Black will rot in Azkaban for the rest of his miserable existence._

The door slammed behind him.

A tall figure in long black robes gazed through the only window. She wore a long black mourning veil that went out of style around 1880. She didn’t turn when he entered but spoke in a cold, disinterested voice. “Hello, boy.”

“Mother?” It could have been Merlin and Sirius would have been less shocked. Walburga Black flinched and turned with a sneer. He hadn’t since she cut him dead in London a year after he moved out. He vaguely recalled her disowning him in the early days of his arrest, but he hadn’t cared.

“You look poorly.” She sighed softly and sat in the lone wooden chair provided.

“We aren’t exactly at a health spa,” he said. Sirius didn’t know how he looked but he could feel the grease in his tangles, and the crust of dirt on his skin. He could smell himself, but she didn’t look much better. She’d gained weight and lost her stature, shoulders stooping towards the dirty floor. Her black hair was grey now, still immaculate but charcoal grey. There were bags under her eyes. “What are you doing here?”

“I wanted to see you.” She admitted in a small voice.

Sirius snorted. “First time for everything?”

“Always so funny.” Her lips pressed into a small, thin line. “I’m surprised to find you so lucid. I was told most prisoners lose their faculties within a few months.”

Sirius nodded. Most did. “Didn’t you always think I was crazy?”

“No.” She said. “That made it all the worse. You chose to spit on your heritage, to taint our name with degenerate filth, blood traitors, mudbloods-”

“Don’t-”

“You’re in no position to make demands, you stain. You brought a werewolf into my home, perverted my family name with your sin!” Her voice was like acid. Sirius bristled. His boney hands curled into fists and he wanted to hurt her in any way possible.

But they wouldn’t let him attack her. They’d be watching and they’d take him away. This was the first time he’d talked to anyone in years. “Why are you here, Mother?”

She flinched again. That might be enough for satisfaction. She took a long slow breath and looked at him. For a long time, neither spoke.

“Do you know what day it is?”

“It’s hard to keep track,” Sirius said. He nodded towards the window, “The fog never clears.”

“It is November Third, Sirius.” He blinked at her tone. Why did that date sound familiar? She raised her eyebrow, waiting.

His Birthday.

His mother had come to see him on his birthday.

“Twenty-six years ago, I gave you life and this is my repayment. My husband dead, my son-“

“I didn’t kill Regulus.” Sirius said. “Or Father.”

“You as good as killed them,” Walburga said with a sniff. “Two dead and one locked in a cage, like an animal. The House of Black.”

“You didn’t come here to tell me I’m a disappointment.”

“You are a disgrace. You are a viper in my life. You are failure.” She glared at him, sighing deeply. “You can’t even die properly.”

Sirius sniffed. “Give it a couple years.”

“Too long,” she said. “More time than I have.”

“You’re not dying.” Sirius scoffed.

“Don’t presume to tell me my own business.” She snapped. “The spells of our House are strong. Our ancestors could never predict the shame you would bring-”

Sirius felt an odd surge at that. It might have been pride.

“I cannot undo their wards,” she said in a thin voice. Sirius wondered what it had cost her to admit that, what it had cost her to try.

“I don’t want your house, Mother.” Sirius said. He’d stay in Azkaban if the only other option was Number 12 Grimmauld Place.

Walburga sniffed deeply. “You’ll never see the outside of this island, Sirius. They will inform you of my death, I am certain.”

Sirius wasn’t. Dementors ate happiness. For most people, the loss of a mother would be a tragic event but for Sirius Black… it might’ve been the only good news he’d received in five years.

“I wanted you to know, you’ll inherit the house because I could not prevent it. It’s fitting to see you like this, properly punished.”

“Punished?” Sirius repeated. He felt fourteen again, a petulant child. “Aren’t I finally living up to the Black family name?”

She smiled, long and thin, like an anaconda about to unhinge its jaw. She leaned very close and spoke in a hiss. “You didn’t kill those people, Sirius.”

“What?” His voice caught. He’d heard her, clear as crystal, but the words didn’t make sense coming out of his mother.

“You didn’t kill those people,” She repeated, grinning madly. “Not the Potter boy or the muggles. You haven’t the stomach for it. You lack the conviction necessary.”

The already chilled room froze. Sirius stared at his mother, unable to form coherent thoughts, let alone words. In over five years, since that horrible night, no one had ever thought he might be innocent.

“You didn’t- you never-”

“What, boy?” She chuckled softly. “Plead your innocence? Even if it would have served you, I’d keep my tongue. You deserve to be here. I don’t care about their reasons.” Her smile grew, showing off gleaming white teeth, more terrifying than any fang. Sirius only saw her smile like that when he’d just served some particularly brutal punishment. He couldn’t breath when she looked at him like that, couldn’t say a word.

“There.” She said. “That’s why I came.”

She tapped her cane on the cold stood and called in a clear voice. “Guard! Remove him!”

“Mother!” Sirius found his voice again, choking on the word. “Please, what’s happening outside? Tell me-”

Questions died on his lips as the guard returned. His mother stood and turned back to the window. She didn’t look as the dementor pulled him from the room.

_James glanced back at Lily, cooing over their newborn son and then back to Sirius. “It’s gotta be you, Sirius… It’s obvious,”_

_Sirius shook his head, staring passed James to the little life in the hospital room. “Can’t go with the obvious, mate. Use Wormtail… no one’ll suspect.”_

The dementor trilled at the memory and Sirius tried to fight it. Couldn’t go to pieces now. He’d never get back together.

But Sirius had no good memories left. He thought of James and Lily and saw their corpses. He thought of Harry and remembered Hagrid taking him away to live with the Muggles. Merlin knew what was happening to him now. He thought of Remus-

_Remus staring at him from the hospital wing as Dumbledore explained the situation, shock and fear transforming into utter betrayal as he met Sirius’s eyes._

The dementor threw him back into his cell but stayed close at the bars, savoring the despair. Another joined him, then another, then a swarm. Sirius felt to his knees, gasping for air.

_It’s November Third. Four years and one month since you killed them. Fifty-nine moons. He’s all alone because you thought you were clever._

_Change. Change now. Can’t be human._

He focused ever inch of energy he had left on the black dog. Padfoot. He welcomed the pain, shifting bones and growing hair. He curled onto his side, his tail under his nose. He was cold and hungry but he could sleep. At least, he could sleep. 

**Author's Note:**

> I just want angst.  
> Angst and comments.
> 
> can be read as canon but is 100% part of my Harry Potter Fix Fic AU


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